


Reflections

by lavendericecoffee



Series: Atlas AU [9]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Atlas AU, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Partial Nudity, Rhys being the best bf, Self-Doubt, Support, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendericecoffee/pseuds/lavendericecoffee
Summary: Sometimes, Timothy needs a reminder.
Relationships: Timothy Lawrence/Rhys
Series: Atlas AU [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959502
Kudos: 16





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> today's my birthday!! I rly wanted to post something for it but with finals and working on other projects ~~(hmmmValentine'sDaymaybe)~~ , I didnt have the time to write anything new. so I found sth I wrote back in October 2020, I hope u will like it <33

There was always something so foreign about looking into the mirror for him.

It was certainly easy to pinpoint _why_ it felt as such but… Understanding never really made it any less painful. That whatever look he will take at himself it will always have to be met with that weird disdain and sense of missing. It’s not him, actually. It’s just a puppet, a caricature of what he was supposed to look like. Like so much of him will never belong to him fully.

Timothy remembered the first time looking at himself after the surgery. That sure was something he will remember for the rest of his days. Even if his memory was lacking the outlook of himself before that fateful day. But _that_ he simply couldn’t forget. The unclear stare, how unbelievable it felt. That the man in front of him, with his chiseled jaw, multicolor eyes and almost muscular stance was him after all.

Hell, 15 years later and Timothy still couldn’t believe.

But it was inevitable, wasn’t it? The briefest of stares at himself and he got reminded that he… Really was that thing he saw in the mirror. Not like everyone else he met during this time would ever let him forget. The whispers of first fear and twisted respect, quickly turning to snarls of disgust and anger. Almost exactly how Timothy grew to view himself over the years.

Even nowadays, after so much time has passed, he still had that underlying fear of any violence directed at him. It wouldn’t be anything unexpected, no sir, but something of… A painful reminder. No matter how much time will pass, no matter what he will do and how he will change, people will still see him as a mere feeble copy of Handsome Jack. A murderer, a liar, a face which should be wiped out of the surface of all six galaxies the longest time ago.

Not that Timothy didn’t say all of this to himself daily.

Taking a better look at his features, he couldn’t help but feel the sort of emptiness. At his tan skin and freckles still appearing on it. Freckles might have been the only thing he liked about himself, reminding him of days long gone by. Yet, still there was so much to him after all. His now muscular body, after he finally decided to take on himself and work out more and more. His longer face with out and front blue scar, he was told to hide for so many years. The little beard he had at the tip of his chin, the soul patch he still decided to keep. And the thick hair, he grew out much longer, now with more graying streaks along it. Noticing it all, the emptiness he felt, immediately wanted to change itself to plain repulse.

Then there were newer parts of him. The prosthetic right hand, he got several years back. In the black shade with red accents and that familiar Atlas logo. He still remembered when Rhys showed him prototypes of it, with the most pride he could have ever mustered. Along with the hand, later on came the ECHOeye. Instead of the green Timothy was used to, it was now warm brown, chosen with someone special in his mind.

Weirdly enough, the most artificial body parts of his kept him the most human.

Yet, it still didn’t feel exactly enough. No matter what Timothy will do, looking at himself will always feel strange and unfamiliar. Like he was always destined to be a copy, an echo. Not himself in the slightest.

Sighing heavily, he began wiping his face away, still keeping that distant look onto himself. The weird sense of doom running through him, just knowing that he will be cursed with this look for the rest of his days. Like a prince never meeting anyone who could turn him human again.

“Timothy?”

And for some reason, Rhys always knew when it happened.

It was actually one of the rare instances of him using his full name, instead of going for a nickname or an endearment. Like his name was the one of the few things truly his own, the strongest force of all. And the feeling of reminding him of who he is, something no one will ever take away from him. With a careful step, he approached Timothy and embraced him right in the middle.

“Hmm? Oh, em, hi, Rhys, how- How ya doing?” Timothy snapped back out of it, trying to flash him a smile that could ease his worry.

“Oh, I’m all alright, I’m mostly just…” he pressed his cheek right against his shoulder. With just his tone, Timothy knew it didn’t fool him at all. “I’m just wondering, what’s going on with you. If there’s anything on your mind, and stuff.”

His hands moved right against Timothy’s stomach back to his pecs, especially where his heart is. He started drawing little circles on his warm skin, both the sensation of human and robotic hand hitting Timothy. And so he put his own hands on top of his, trying to feel them even more so.

“Oh, nothing! Nothing just…” starting with a higher tone, he quickly just sighed and admitted the truth, heavily. “Trying to think if there’s a way to go back.”

If there was one person on the whole Promethea, or just in all six galaxies, he could tell it to, it was Rhys. At the beginning he did try to hide it, twist his own words and try to belittle what he felt. Yet he soon realized that nothing went past Rhys’ stare and his intuition. He just read him too well. And honestly, he felt that kind of relief knowing at least he will always be there to listen.

“Why would you wanna go back,” Rhys whispered, still drawing these circles on his skin.

“Guess, it just seems like for the best… I wouldn’t have to look at. Whatever that is,” Timothy looked exactly and Rhys and then jerked his head more than suggestively at the mirror.

Lifting his head up, Rhys changed his position. Now to look more properly at Tim, hands pressed onto his shoulders at first, then making their way onto the curve of his face.

“You? I think you’re rather pretty,” Rhys’ fingers now stroked his jawline, soothing and delicate.

But Timothy avoided his looks. Heart still heavy of doubts, of all the self-loathing he made himself endure all this time. He really couldn’t bear to share that stare of his, not now.

“I’m not pretty, Rhys, that’s not me… I was made to look like this and. Truth be told, even that shot me in the back,” he continued on, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. “With a Hyperion branded shotgun.”

Rhys furrowed his brows and cupped his cheek properly, still maintaining the flow of his fingers, “What, you really thought I would say something like this to the Mr. rotting corpse back there? I’m saying this cause… It’s you. And no one else.”

Closing his eyes, Timothy let himself loose in the touch of Rhys’. His prosthetic hand, smelling both of metal and the perfume Rhys always used for himself. Heart trembling in his chest, eyes opening shyly to meet his stare. His beautiful stare of brown and blue, with so much care and love behind him. Unlike Timothy, he didn’t have to do anything to just feel like he should in his own skin. And he should, he really was the most beautiful person Timothy has ever seen. Yet, how could he deserve the stare and caress of someone like Rhys, when he himself felt like nothing more than a broken reflection of an already broken man.

Finally, Timothy spoke, his words coming together a little harsher than before, “When you look at me… What do you see?”

“Uhm, you?” Rhys smiled, feeling Timothy’s hands right on his sides, pulling him closer.

“You know what I mean…”

Of course, he knew. And so he drew close, gently brushing fingers on his cheek. He sighed delicately, his sight moving to every inch of him. Rhys first felt the warmth of his skin and the coarseness of his facial hair at the edges. The roughness of the scar that branded Timothy’s face. And when he tangled his fingers right in his hair, the softness. Every bit of him felt familiar. But not in the way that others saw him. Every bit of Timothy felt like a reminder and steadiness. Like home.

And so Rhys just looked closely into his eyes and spoke carefully.

“I guess I just really see you. You know, _you_. As in the top class Crimson Lance soldier, a guy who cries whenever I send him pics of cats on the ECHOnet? The guy who… Kisses better than everyone I’ve ever dated and who can quote the “Master of the Armlets” line by line? And the guy who I want to wake up to every day of my life, just to drink coffee and who always complains about my bad breath,” Rhys smiled softly, his left hand moving across his shoulder. “And a survivor, who reads so much of the self-helping books in bed, because they calm him down after the day. And who has the softest stare and who always baby talks our cats, even if they get cat food all over the house… And the love of my life. That’s- That’s the one I should start with.”

Each word of his was like the most delicate of reminders. Of being grounded in the moment, in the feeling. Of reminding him who he was in the end, even if everyone else wanted him to forget. Including himself.

Wordlessly, Timothy just opened his eyes to look at him again. He pressed his forehead against Rhys’, his hands also moving right onto his rounder jawline. Just pulling him to himself, as close as possible. In a moment, he felt the scent of his manly perfume intensified, a scent so familiar, so _his_.

“Tim, no matter what will happen, I will… Just think you’re beautiful the way you are. Cause you are you. I know there are so many of these assholes who can’t see this but. You’re you, if anything _he_ was just that off brand copy,” Rhys laughed but quickly returned to the same tone he’s used, the one full of love and understanding. “You made all this your own. Despite. All that, you are just yourself. And I’ve never seen someone this beautiful in my whole life. And I’ve… Never loved anyone more in my life, Tim.”

The beat of Timothy’s heart got so much rapider, feeling like it would just leap out of his chest. All his words, all the wonderful things he’s said to him… In times like these, he truly couldn’t believe he received it all. That he could hear it all from someone he loved more than anything.

“Rhys, I’m… God, I’m sorry, I…”

He wanted to say but Rhys cut him off, “No, no, don’t apologize. Just kiss me, okay?”

And so he did. With just one motion, finding his way to Rhys’ lips, kissing him breathlessly. The feeling of him so intimate, so calming. Like nothing else in his life, like an anchor in the midst of all the storming reality. How Rhys was the one to put him to ease and help him out no matter what it was. And the curve of his lips, perfectly fitting against his own.

Maybe Timothy didn’t believe him at this moment. But with every reassurance, every loving stare of Rhys’, Timothy was closer to understanding so. Not quite there yet, but maybe after thousandth, millionth time, he will. Maybe, he finally was that prince who got to feel human by the rescue of his knight.

Or just Rhys. His Rhys, his love. He was definitely more than enough for him.

“Thank you, just… Thanks. You know me, you know I…” Timothy whispered still against his lips.

“That’s why I’m here, right? Now c’mon, I found the perfect recipe for some fancy coffee and you will love it,” Rhys cooed against him, kissing the tip of his nose. He just always knew how to cheer him up, didn’t he.

So Timothy straightened his back and finally smiled. Genuinely, warmly, like he should. His hands still held Rhys closely, not wanting to let go. Yet, he did draw back and looked at himself in the mirror again.

The reflection still felt foreign to him. Maybe it always will. But with time he could accept that figure and at least, acknowledge him as he is. Especially knowing how much he’s changed over the time. The room to grow was always there, yet… His road still took him in all the right places, nonetheless. And he’ll be happy to wake up one day and smile at the reflection of his, no matter the reason. Even if it took him enough time to do so.

“Alright, just let me. Well, put a shirt on, for starters,” Timothy remarked.

“I mean I- I’m not complaining,” nodding, Rhys gave him that knowing stare.

“Pfshh, c’mon,” Timothy waved his hand back at him and laughed. And as he saw Rhys leaving to prepare the coffee for them, he called, “Hey, Rhys?”

“Yes?”

Timothy smiled, as sweetly as he could, “I love you too. With all my heart. Juuust wanted you to know that.”

And Rhys smiled right back.


End file.
